Surly

K: I don't like Daddy.
Me: I wish you would stop saying things like that.
K: I don't like my parents. I don't like my family. I don't like ANYBODY.

When did he become a teenager?

(Of course, unlike a teenager, he relented about five seconds later and wanted to hold hands.)

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Yellow clothes

I'm unpacking K's old baby clothes and realizing that most of them are covered with yellow stains. I think the stains have deepened over time -- I'm sure I wouldn't have saved all those clothes if they looked as bad as they do now. So what do I do with them? The alternatives seem to be: (1) use them -- babies are constantly messy anyway; (2) donate them -- probably nobody in the U.S. would want them, but I know Goodwill and places like that have recycling programs that pay them for recycled clothing; or (3) put them in the rag bag. Any advice?

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Another snow day

K's preschool follows the local public school schedule. Which means he's had a snow day at least once a week for the past month, plus there was that entire week he was sick. We have both missed so much work taking care of him in the past few weeks that I feel like I'm already a little checked out of my job, despite being a month and a half away from maternity leave.

Today we spent the entire day in the house, in our pajamas, playing. On one hand, it's nice that we have this time together and I know when he's older I'll look back and miss how sweet and cuddly he was and how close we were at this age. I'll be honest, though. At the end of yet another day at home together, I actually feel more grateful that I'm a working mom and I have a nice peaceful office to retreat to and I feel that I've accomplished something outside my home at the end of the day.

Sometimes I wonder, if I didn't have my iPhone beeping at me and the constant sense that I might be dropping the ball elsewhere, would I be able to relax and enjoy my time at home more? But then I remember how I felt during my time at home with K when he was a baby. I couldn't wait to get back to work, or school, or anything that made me feel like I had a brain and a purpose outside my family. But then again (on the third hand), babies are different than little kids and the sleep deprivation alone made me a horrible grouch during those months. Anyway. I'm employed, I'm happy that way, our family is doing well. No need to overthink these things.

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Beach ball

Today I was walking across the cafeteria, minding my own business, when someone called out that I looked like I had a beach ball under my shirt. I'm sure they wouldn't dare if I were a partner.

One advantage of the beach ball look is that both ways on my commute, people immediately gave up their seats for me on the bus. In fact, on the way home, two people gave up their seats -- the first time, a perfectly healthy-looking guy dove for the empty seat before I could take the two steps to get there, and the person who had gotten up looked annoyed. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be a mensch.

It gives me the warm fuzzies when people give up their seats unprompted, whether for me or for someone else who obviously needs it. I always feel like "thank you" is inadequate. What I want to convey is more like, "Thank you, not just for your seat, but for affirming my faith in humanity by being a good and kind person." Maybe I should carry cookies with me for this purpose. "Hey, thanks. Look, I made this for you!"

I am at the second awkward clothing stage of pregnancy. The first happens in your first trimester when you get too big for your regular clothes, but you're still too small for maternity clothes. I don't think the second happens to everyone, but thanks to my ball-like proportions, I have outgrown almost all of my maternity tops. I wore a T-shirt to work today, and tried to make up for it with nice jewelry. It pains me to buy more maternity clothes with my due date less than two months away, but I think I'll need at least a few more tops to avoid exposing myself inappropriately at work.

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Three weeks and I've already broken my resolution to post every day. The unexamined life is just easier.

The headline around here is snow, snow, and more snow. Poor JW has been out every day, if not shoveling, then breaking the thick layer of ice coating our driveway. We're supposed to get yet another storm this week. I've been refusing to leave the house during a snowstorm. We're not officially supposed to work from home, but that's why god made the Internet.

I am now 33 weeks pregnant and feeling increasingly weak and immobile. Last night I realized that 7 weeks is plenty of time to get back to a consistent workout routine that will strengthen my upper body in preparation for the baby. I decided that I could at least manage to do 10 minutes of strength work and 10 minutes of cardio each day. After waking up around 3:30, I fell back asleep around 5 a.m. and got woken up by K around 6, and had to pack him a hard-boiled egg and vinegar for school for some experiment they are doing, and pack our bags and fix our breakfasts and get dressed and brush our teeth, and throw dinner in the crockpot and do assorted other little chores. And of course, I had to draw some mazes for K and listen to him play the harmonica and chase him around a little and cajole him into his coat. Before I knew it, I was late for work as usual and finding the 20 minutes no longer seemed so easy. In theory I could do lots of preparation the night before, but after I put K to bed I lack the energy to do anything. Probably what I really should do is go to bed and wake up early the next morning, but then I don't get any time alone with JW. I guess I'll just keep doing what I can.

K is very interested in mazes and puzzles lately. He's also starting to identify and sound out words, and has been playing word and number games on his Thomas laptop. It was a Christmas present from the grandparents when he was two, but the only thing he could really do with it at the time was make it play music. He's interested in science lately too. He asks all sorts of questions about animals and how things work. It's good that he's turning out to be a smart kid, because so far he shows no signs of being athletic. I can barely get him to change out of his pajamas and leave the house. Like his mom, he remains tiny. (Well, I'm not so tiny lately, but eventually I should be able to turn around without knocking something over.) At about 37 inches and 33 pounds, he's one of the smallest in his class. I hope I haven't doomed him for life.

K might get his weight percentile up if only he would voluntarily EAT something other than Goldfish crackers, popsicles, and fruit leather. Lately the list of foods he rejects has been growing, and he hasn't been adding anything. He's even been refusing typical toddler foods he used to love -- mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, fish sticks, pizza, hot dogs. We've resorted to a "eat all your veggies to get dessert" rule to make sure he gets something nutritious. He used to eat whatever we put in front of him and have fresh fruit for dessert. At least he still eats a good breakfast and a decent amount of fruit during the day.

I saw a link today to this BBC article suggesting babies should be weaned before they're six months old. I'm glad I'm a second-time mom, because otherwise I would be totally confused and freaked out right now. Despite the inflammatory headline, the article appears to actually say that babies should start solids before six months, not that they need to be weaned.

This weekend we started putting together the nursery. JW assembled the crib and moved the furniture around. It's a little cramped in there, but it will do. The next job is for me to go through all the boxes and bags of baby stuff that people have given us and that we have left over from K's infancy. Recently JW asked if I thought we weren't taking this baby seriously enough -- with K, we barely thought about anything else the whole time I was pregnant, but this time around we've been much more focused on other things. I feel like since K's arrival, we have learned to accept a certain level of unpredictability in our lives. I know it's no use speculating about what life will be like with kid #2 or worrying about how things will change, so why bother? We know the basic details of newborn care. We do need to figure out a plan for when I go into labor, specifically what to do with K. The nursery needs curtains and we'll acquire newborn sized diapers and some swaddling blankets and warm pajamas and things. Other than that, I think we're okay.

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Family time

I woke up at 4 a.m. from a disturbing dream. JW and I had just graduated from college and were taking a long road trip together. I made a joke about how he would propose to me and he told me that he never wanted to marry me. I was shocked and had no idea what to do next. I wondered if I needed to sue him for child support. (Both kids existed somewhere, they just weren't with us.) He acted like everything was fine and was surprised when I cut our road trip short and went home to my parents' house.

I was grateful when I woke up for real the next morning and my husband was next to me and K climbed into our bed for snuggles. Maybe that was the point of the dream.

I spent all day with K yesterday (thanks, Martin Luther King Jr.!) and we played games and told jokes and watched cartoons and did our usual holiday trip on the bus to Harvard Square, where we ate ice cream and checked out the toys in the Curious George store. I hate to admit it, but lately I've been seeing time with K almost as a burden. He demands so much attention and energy. Our occasional days off together remind me how much fun we can have, especially when we can just hang out with no agenda in mind. I feel like I have enough time with K during the week in terms of the number of hours we spend together, and I try not to focus on work and other things that need to get done when I'm with him. But I guess that stress is always lurking. Even though I remember the awful sleep deprivation that comes with having a newborn, I'm hoping maternity leave helps me relax a little and not feel like I'm constantly on call or neglecting my duties somewhere.

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Banana cranberry muffins

Fell down the stairs again. No lasting damage other than a few scrapes and bruises.

JW asked, "When is the baby full term?" "36 weeks, I think?" "And how many weeks is that away?" "Four." He looked worried. Between the ice outside, my increasing exhaustion and difficulty sleeping, and my occasional falls, it may be a rough eight weeks.

Today I made these banana cranberry muffins. They were great, much better than I expected -- I was a little skeptical about the huge amount of banana and the flavor combination with the tart cranberries, but it worked nicely and used up all my frozen bananas. It was even pretty healthy. The recipe:

1. Mix 1 1/4 cups flour, 1 cup oats, 2/3 cup sugar, 1 1/2 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp baking soda, and 1/2 tsp salt.
2. Melt 1/3 cup butter. Mix in one egg and about 5 bananas (1 3/4 cups).
3. Add wet ingredients to dry. Mix in 1 cup of fresh or frozen cranberries.
4. Fill greased muffin tins almost to top.
5. Bake at 375 for 20 minutes.

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The end of an era

We went to Ikea today, looking for curtains, baby stuff, and assorted storage solutions for our house. Usually I love going to Ikea. I get lots of decorating and organizing ideas, and see all sorts of things that I have to restrain myself from buying. But today? Everything looked drab and cheap. I think we've finally outgrown Ikea. Now that we're in what we think of as our permanent home, I want to stock it with permanent things. Things we love, and not just things we bought because they were inexpensive, easy, and cute. I don't know where to find things like that, and I suspect it involves actual shopping instead of going to one store a few times a year, but that's the goal.

My love affair with Trader Joe's remains intact, though. My parents made a last-minute visit and we didn't have time to shop or plan any meals. We cooked lunch and dinner entirely out of the pantry, about half an hour start to finish each time. Thanks to some giant white beans and a carton of black bean soup that we've had hanging around for months, the parents were impressed. Brunch tomorrow, including some local cousins, will be waffles, cranberry banana muffins, chicken apple sausages, and fruit -- again, made entirely out of pantry/freezer ingredients (except for the several pounds of Costco berries my parents showed up with). Lately I've been thinking we should stop stocking up the pantry and just buy things we're planning to cook within the next week, but right now I'm grateful that we can feed a small crowd without notice.

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Well it's a sunny day, I feel brand new

Everyone at work today was moaning and groaning about their aching muscles after shoveling all day yesterday. I sat on my butt all day yesterday. I slept late, billed a few hours here and there, hung out with the family, cooked dinner, and baked some bread. I feel great today. My (part of the) deal has slowed down and I've gotten nine hours of sleep each of the past two nights. Hooray for sleep! Suddenly the world looks bright and happy again. K has his appetite back -- he requested bacon, eggs, and oatmeal for breakfast this morning. We all got to school and work safely. I discovered that my everyday boots are waterproof, which is excellent because my snow boots sprung a leak two years ago and I never replaced them. My pants even stayed clean and dry the whole way to work, even though I had to walk back and forth from school twice because I forgot K's dry shoes the first time, and then chased the bus down the street. (I didn't catch it, not surprisingly. I was worried about falling so my "chase" was more like a fast shuffle.)

Last night I took a bath for the first time in my adult life. Being me, before I set foot in the tub I googled "how to take a bath." I came up with some racy videos, a few websites that said things like, "If you are reading this, you must be some kind of idiot. Put water in the tub and get in," and some tips for adding essential oils and lighting candles for a spa-like experience. That sounded nice, but I was too lazy to gather up oils and candles and things, so I went the idiot route and just filled the tub up with warm water. I'm not sure if I liked it. I couldn't get my whole body submerged even in our clawfoot tub. When you see someone in the bath on TV, isn't just the person's neck and head sticking out? Do you need a jacuzzi tub for that? At first I tried shifting from side to side, but that wasn't particularly comfortable. Then the baby started going berserk so I just lay there and watched the Alien-like bulges moving around my belly. I was tempted to call JW to watch, but didn't want to alarm him by yelling from the tub. I also didn't think he would be as impressed as I was. He knows there's a baby in there and the baby moves, so big deal, it's moving. But for me, it never stops being bizarre that there is a little person living inside my body.

People at work keep telling me I look "like I'm going to pop." I get this comment multiple times a day. Yes, I look that way, and I often feel that way, but I still have almost two months to go. I've also gotten several comments along the lines of, "You haven't gained weight except in your belly." That makes me a little uncomfortable because first of all, it's not true and it's been a little frustrating not being able to manage my weight through exercise like I usually do, and second, I know these people are well-meaning but I can't help feeling like they're looking me up and down and nodding approvingly that my butt hasn't expanded too much.

K has been extra-clingy lately. He constantly wants to hold hands and insists, "Sit NEXT to me," even if I'm just a few inches away but not physically touching him. If no one is actively playing with him or touching him, he complains that he's lonely.  At least he's being equal-opportunity clingy. In the past he's been a mama's boy, but lately either Mommy or Daddy will do. It will pass, soon I hope.

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Snow day

Congratulations to Butterflyfish on her new baby! I wonder how they fared in the snow.

We all stayed home today. K is still not 100% better. He's still having digestive problems and not eating much, and he's still tired. But he had a lot more energy today and was a lot closer to his usual self. JW and I argued about whether to send him to school tomorrow. Despite my misgivings, I think we'll try it. JW thinks that now that K is mostly better, he needs to get back into his routine. He's probably right. We'll do a shorter day than usual tomorrow and see how it goes.

At the beginning of December, we hired someone to plow and shovel because I knew I'd be no help this winter. We're very glad we did. Even so, JW was out for nearly three hours shoveling out the cars.

I'm very tempted to walk K to school tomorrow morning and then come home and curl up with a cup of hot chocolate and my laptop. I wonder if I can get away with another day of working from home.

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Getting better

Argh. Why am I back at work?

I stayed home with K this morning. He barely moved and asked me to carry him up and down the stairs. He did eat breakfast, even though it was just a little dry cereal, some Goldfish crackers, and some berries. It was probably more than he kept down in the last three days combined. But afterwards, he was clearly having some digestive problems.

At lunchtime JW came home and switched with me. During the afternoon I called my doctor brother, who is ordinarily nonchalant about sicknesses but was concerned when I told him about K's lethargy and certain excretory issues which I'll spare you. He said if K doesn't improve tomorrow, we may need to get him on an IV.

I left at 5 because I was worried about K and also plain exhausted. On my way home I got an email telling me to draft something "ASAP", which meant when I got home, K was all over me and I had to avoid him and get to work. I managed to finish up in time to put K to bed. Afterwards, I checked my email and saw that I had been warned that I should be available tonight. I couldn't get my remote access to work, something that happens too frequently, so I got in the car and came back here. I have a nasty feeling "available" means "sit around until we need you, which may be several hours from now." Not that I have nothing else to do in the office. I just wish I were sleeping instead. Or at least doing work in my own living room.

Still, I'm glad I went home because K seemed much better than when I left. He sat up and ate food at dinnertime (rice and mango sorbet -- we'll try non-carb food tomorrow). He actually laughed and made a few jokes and tried to run away at bathtime. He was still tired and is clearly not healthy yet, but he was better than I've seen him in days. See, I told you -- JW is SuperDad.

We're supposed to have a big snowstorm on Wednesday. Maybe I can hand over my iPhone to K and sleep all day.

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Permission to sleep

I just sent the dreaded email asking permission to go to bed. Dreaded partly because I know whoever I'm sending it to is going to be up way later than me, and partly because it seems so ridiculous. But it's better than the alternatives of either staying up waiting, or going to bed and finding out the next morning that someone sent me an urgent email ten minutes later.

I don't mean to complain about my job. I like my job. I am grateful to have my job. But the 24/7 availability is a bitch.

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Sick boy update

K was still pretty miserable today. He hasn't thrown up again since early Saturday morning, but he's having major tummy problems and barely ate anything for the second day in a row (third day, if you count Friday when everything he ate or drank came back up). He's basically living on popsicles and Pedialyte, and the occasional bite of cracker or cereal that I can sneak into him. Luckily he's a good sick kid -- he's sad and naps a lot and wants to snuggle all the time, but he's not grouchy or irritable. Doctor neighbor thinks K has norovirus. He said it's very common this time of year and typically goes away within 2-3 days after the last bout of vomiting. Norovirus is highly contagious, so we'll see how JW and I fare over the next few days.

I billed nearly 15 hours yesterday, went to bed at 2 in the morning, and was woken up at 4:45 when K came in saying his tummy hurt. I took him to the bathroom, gave him some Tylenol, and got in bed with him for a while. We both napped on and off until about 7, and he felt a little better when he woke up.


Today I managed to avoid going into the office -- I offered, but also said I had a sick kid at home and would prefer to work from home if possible. I had to check my email every five minutes and spent several hours working, but it beat spending another entire weekend day at the office while K was miserable at home.

Since I was home, I managed to knock some items off my to-do list. One of them was cleaning out my jewelry box. Somehow I seemed to have lost at least one out of every pair of my favorite earrings in the move. I couldn't figure out how that happened, since I just picked up my jewelry box, put it in the passenger seat of the car, and drove it over. Today when I took out all the drawers of the jewelry box, I saw a jumble of earrings and necklaces that had slipped behind the bottom drawer, including the diamond studs that my parents gave me before K was born and the pearl earrings that were a gift from CT when I was maid of honor at her wedding. Hooray!

I also organized my sock drawer and threw out the socks with holes (I finally accepted that I will never actually darn them), assembled sweater drying racks in the laundry area, used up my second-to-last batch of holiday cookie dough (the holiday cookies never got made because I came down with shingles and it hurt to move), and I'm about to write my Christmas thank-you notes. We didn't get to do any of the family fun activities we had thought about for this weekend (trips to Ikea and to the library, IMAX movie at the Aquarium, lunch at Henrietta's Table as requested by K after he saw a segment about it during Curious George), but I didn't do too bad considering I spent most of the day working or cuddling with K.

JW, always productive, took down and put away all the Christmas decorations, did laundry, and cooked dinner. Once in a while I check to make sure he hasn't changed his mind about being a stay-at-home dad. I seem to be incapable of getting anything done with K around -- the only reason I did today was because he napped half the day. JW, on the other hand, is SuperDad.

I'm going to be optimistic and hope that K will sleep through the night and will be in better spirits tomorrow. At least I hope he eats an entire meal tomorrow.

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Two sleepless nights

Yesterday K started throwing up at 3 p.m. and didn't stop until about 4:30 a.m. I spent the night in his room.

This morning he was still miserable, but at least keeping food down and showing signs of recovery. My plan for the day was to cuddle with him and supply him with Pedialyte.

Then I got called in to work on an "emergency". My work emergencies always involve large sums of money rather than, say, people's lives, and they often have to do with some artificial but urgent-to-the-client deadline, so the term "emergency" never seems quite accurate. Anyway, still here, with at least a few hours of work left that of course MUST be done IMMEDIATELY. Crossing my fingers that the roads won't be too icy on my way home and that K will sleep through the night.

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The story of the goboling

K needs a stool to climb out of our clawfoot tub after his bath. During a week when I worked late every day and wasn't home for bathtime, JW would cover the stool with a towel so K could climb down in style. K was disappointed when I returned to my usual bathtime post and didn't do the same.

Once I figured out what he wanted, I started putting the towel out too. "Did you do that?" asked K. "Wasn't me," I said. "Then who?" It was right before Halloween, so I had monsters on the brain. "Must have been a goblin," I replied. "What goblin?" "The one who lives in our house."

The story of the goblin evolved over time. ("Why can't I see him?" "He keeps out of sight because he's scared of little kids." "Why?" "A little kid trapped him once.") During Thanksgiving, K kept begging me to tell him "the story of the goboling" and then he would act it out.

We haven't talked about it in over a month now, so here, for posterity, is the story of the goboling.

Once upon a time, a little girl was exploring her new house. She looked in every nook and cranny. She went up to the attic and down to the basement.

In the basement, she noticed a strange hole near the floor. It looked too big to be a mouse hole. She lay down and peeked inside, and saw little furniture! She had never heard of a mouse sleeping in a little bed. She wondered who could live in there.

The little girl waited by the hole for almost an hour. Finally, she saw a little creature rushing by! "Wait," she called. "Who are you?" The little creature looked nervous. "Who, me? I'm just a goblin. Excuse me, I should go." "Don't go!" she said. "Do you live here?" "Yes," he replied cautiously. "I live here too!" she exclaimed. "Let's be best friends! We can play have have lots of fun together." "I don't think that would be a good idea," he said. The little girl ignored him. "I have an even better idea! You can be my pet! You can sleep in my room, and you can live in my pocket and I'll take you to school with me!" The goblin was offended. "I am not a pet," he said. "Now please excuse me." The little girl called after the goblin, "You'll love being my pet! You wait and see."

The little girl really did believe the goblin would love being her pet, once he got used to it. But how could she convince him? She decided that she might not be able to convince him, but she could catch him. He might be upset at first, but over time he would be glad she made him her pet. Now how could she catch a goblin? She went into the kitchen, where her mommy and daddy were cooking lunch. "How can I catch something?" she asked. "Catch something?" said Mommy. "Like what?" "Like... a bug," she said. "I used to catch fireflies when I was a little boy," said Daddy. "I'd catch them in a jar. Just remember to poke holes in the top. The holes should be big enough so they can breathe, but not so big that they can escape." The little girl smiled. "That sounds easy. Thanks, Daddy!"

She went back to the basement and waited by the goblin's hole, jar in hand. She waited so long she nearly fell asleep. But finally her patience was rewarded. Just as the goblin went scurrying toward him home, PLOP went the jar. He was trapped! "Let me out!" yelled the goblin. "I am not your pet!" "Don't worry, goblin," she said. "We'll be so happy together." "HELP!" cried the goblin. "LET ME OUT!"

The little girl heard a noise on the stairs. "Shhh," she whispered to the goblin, and hid the jar behind her back. Her big brother poked his head into the basement. "What's going on down here? I heard a commotion." "Nothing," she said. "HELP!" cried the goblin. "I heard it again!" said her big brother. "What are you hiding?" Reluctantly, she brought our the jar. Her brother's eyes widened. "What's that?" "I'm not a that!" cried the goblin. "And I'm not a pet! I'm a goblin! Let me out immediately!" "You'd better let him go," said the big brother. "No!" she protested. "He's going to be my pet!" "HELP! LET ME OUT!" yelled the goblin. The big brother tried to grab the jar to free the goblin, but just then their mother called, "Kids! Time for bed!" The little sister stuck the jar under her shirt and ran up to her bedroom. The big brother arrived just in time to see her place the jar in her dresser drawer, whisper, "Good night, goblin," and close the drawer tightly.

That night, the little sister drifted happily off to sleep, imagining the fun that she and her goblin would have the next morning. But the big brother couldn't sleep at all. He kept tossing and turning, imagining how scared the goblin must be. When he was sure his sister was sound asleep, he snuck into her room, opened the drawer, and loosened the lid of the jar. The goblin sprang out and sprinted away without a word. The big brother put the jar back in the drawer and went back to bed. This time he slept.

He awoke the next morning to the cries of his little sister. She appeared in the doorway to his room. "My goblin escaped!" "I know," he said. "I let him go." "WHY?" "He didn't want to be trapped. It was wrong to keep him like that." "But he was going to be my pet! We were going to have so much fun together! He just needed some time to get used to it." The big brother frowned. "How would you feel," he asked, "if someone took you away from your home and trapped you?" "Scared," said the little girl. "And upset." "And how do you think the goblin felt?" The little girl thought about it. "I guess I was wrong. I was so excited that I didn't think about how the goblin felt at all. Let's go find him now and I'll tell him I'm sorry."

The brother and sister went down to the basement and peeked into the goblin's hole. It was completely empty. All the furniture was gone, as if no one had ever lived there. They looked at each other. "Do you think I scared him so much that he ran away?" asked the sister. "I think you might have," said the brother.

They never saw the goblin again. They could tell he was still around because sometimes they would find nice things mysteriously done for them, like towels that appeared on their bathroom stool or things that had been lost suddenly turning up again. But even though the goblin still loved children and wanted to help them, he was very careful after that to never let a little child see him again.

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I made bad choices today. I ate too much, and the wrong things. I procrastinated for half the day and now I'm staying up late finishing my work. Anxiety eating and work procrastination are probably my worst habits and they often go hand in hand. When I'm handed a daunting task, you'll find me at my desk, my papers spread out in front of me. I start thinking about my work, panic, and spend the next half hour mainlining chocolate and surfing the web to distract myself until I calm down enough to think about work again. This process repeats, sometimes for hours. 

Since I wasn't getting anything done in the office, I left in time to join JW and K for dinner at the local diner. K loves eating out and is well-behaved at restaurants, but I have to admit he is all about the children's menu -- to him, eating out means a chance to have mac and cheese and french fries and juice. We continue to try exposing him to different foods, but he is definitely not one of those kids I always hear about who can't get enough kimchi and kale. In fact, he won't even eat most of the items on the kids' menu. I keep telling him, and telling myself, that it's normal to start liking more foods as you get older. He nods and says, "When I'm five, I'll like sauce. Or maybe eight."

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After realizing when attempting to do my year-end recap that I could barely remember anything I hadn't blogged about, I'm going to try posting every day for a while. My own personal NaBloPoMo.

Work has been slow so far this week, for which I am grateful. To be totally honest, while I will do what I need to do, I would not mind at all if work continues to be slow for the next two months until kid #2 arrives.

I joined the office lottery pool. My share will be about $38 million when we all win the lottery. I wasn't going to join in, but I pictured coming in next week and finding that everyone else was in Hawaii.

My two home projects for today were baking and organizing the freezer. I made a double batch of rugelach dough in preparation for Christmas baking and candymaking, but since I got sick, none of the holiday treats happened. Now I have lots of dough that I need to use up. I made a half-batch the other night with just cinnamon sugar, raisins, and walnuts. I liked it, K didn't. More for me. (Actually, I ended up eating most of them.) Tonight's were pinwheel-shaped with apricot jam. I thought they were too jammy and sticky, and the shapes weren't quite right. JW liked them better than the first batch. K hasn't tried them yet. I think I'll do a half-batch with chocolate, and maybe one with almond paste.

The freezer has been bothering me ever since we moved in. Everything was in a jumbled pile. We didn't know what we had and what we needed, and I could never find anything without pulling out the entire contents of the freezer. 

I bought a bunch of plastic shoeboxes and had a vision of separating the frozen foods according to type -- one box for frozen veggies, one for fruit, one for meat, one for baked goods, one for starches, one for prepared foods. In reality, only the baked goods fit into a single shoebox, and the boxes themselves took up so much room that I couldn't fit everything back in. I also discovered that we had lots of duplicate veggies, and that the door was taken up by about twenty cold packs. These are the "after" pictures -- I got rid of all but two cold packs and ended up putting the meat in the door. Fruit and veggies are in bins on the bottom shelf. Two stacked shoeboxes on the top contain starches and baked goods, and the prepared foods are shoved in however they'll fit on the side. It's not ideal, but it's a step in the right direction. (I didn't really take these pictures intending to share them with the world -- I took them so I could puzzle over how to organize better without thawing out all our food.)

Today I also started making a dent in our pile of magazines. I read about a Harvard researcher who wrote a book about the evolution of the skull. In the course of his research, he did all sorts of experiments to try to understand how various parts of the body worked.  One of the experiments was to figure out the impact of different kinds of shoes on our bodies and behaviors. They constructed high-heeled shoes and put them on sheep, and then they made the sheep walk on a treadmill. He said that it worked a lot better when the sheep were also wearing socks. Grad students really are underpaid.

While I am chronicling minutiae, two other things that happened in the last two days: Yesterday I talked CT's brother out of applying to law school. I thought their parents would be upset because they were the ones pushing for law school, but CT told me they were grateful once they understood that law school is no longer a safe backup option for aimless college grads. And the day before, K showed me his drawing of a mouse, with blue and red lines all over it. "Is that the fur?" I asked. "No, these blue lines are the veins, and the red lines are the arteries." He pointed to some shapes in the middle of the mouse and said, "This is the stomach. Here are the lungs." He hadn't drawn a face. Recently he's been asking questions about what animals look like on the inside and whether they have the same organs as us.

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Happy New Year!

We're back from a relaxing family-visiting vacation down South, where we shared a house with six kids and eight adults. Took lots of naps, got a lot more exercise, generally feel healthier and more sane than before we left. I was happy having a house full of people to bake for. Among other things, I made pumpkin cinnamon rolls for Christmas breakfast and hush puppies to accompany the deep-fried turkey we had the night before we left.

For the first time ever, K successfully sat through church on Christmas Eve. He was very unhappy after a few minutes and whispered to me, "We're going to stay here the WHOLE TIME?" But he soldiered on (without whining! A Christmas miracle!) and was rewarded when all the kids were given glowsticks during the candle-lighting part of the service. It was also the first year he totally got Christmas and the whole Santa thing, and was very excited about it. He left a note for Santa in his stocking at home to let him know we were on vacation. He more or less ignored the actual Santa present, a big yellow bulldozer that was exactly what he asked for and cost way more than I'd normally spend on a toy for him, but loved the puzzles, spinning light, and electronic reading-pen system that he got from family members.

During the weeks leading up to Christmas, I tried to convince K that the point wasn't to get presents, it was to be with the people you love. I also drilled into him that whether he liked a present or not, he was to smile and say thank you because someone cared enough to give it to him. He wasn't entirely on board until Christmas Eve, when he told me about a movie he had just seen on TV. According to K, it was called "How Elmo Stealed Christmas," and in it mean green Elmo learned how to love people because of Christmas. "Because the important part of Christmas," K informed me, "is loving people."

And now, the 2010 recap that I stole from Ana. Last year was such a blur that I had to look back through my blog archives to remember anything that happened. Unfortunately, I didn't post regularly over the past year, so I'm sure there are things I'm forgetting. 

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?
Sold our house. Which is something I hope not to do again for at least a few decades.
Participated in an official town commission.
Successfully decorated a cake.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I didn't write any down, which means they don't exist. Here are my goals for 2011.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? My sister-in-law, who added TWO children to her family this year! And many other friends and acquaintances.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No. People close to people close to me did.

5. What countries did you visit?
My passport didn't see any action this year.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
Two healthy kids. And non-neutral paint on the walls.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
K's third birthday. The end of June, when the doctor confirmed I was pregnant again. Mid-August, when we closed on our new house. Mid-November, when we sold the old house. The end of November, when we attended a friend's funeral. K's first Christmas when he actually knew what was going on.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
It was my first full year of working as an attorney, along with all the real estate and pregnancy stuff and keeping up with my family. I'd say just getting through the year and remaining healthy and happy and sane was an achievement.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I don't really dwell on failure. But one thing I'm a little disappointed about is that I realized toward the end of my tenure on the town commission that I didn't have any real power to change anything. I put in a lot of work and dared to disagree and raise some important issues, so I wouldn't call it a failure. Some of the things I brought up were taken seriously and some changes were made. I wish I had pushed harder and enlisted more people on a key issue that remains a problem.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Shingles during pregnancy sucked! But it only lasted about a week and a half. I'm only listing it here because it's a recent memory and I still have the scars. Just a few minor things here and there.
 
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Our new house!

12. Where did most of your money go?
Our new house!
 
13. What did you get really excited about?
Pregnancy is an obvious one. SELLING THE HOUSE, oh my god, I have never felt such a huge weight lift off me. Moving into our new place on our ideal block in our town. Our weekend getaway in New York City. And getting a stand mixer, which I have been wanting for years, as a housewarming present from JW.

14. What song will always remind you of 2010?
The theme song to Peep and the Big Wide World? I don't listen to enough music these days.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:

–
- happier or sadder? Just as happy, I think.
- thinner or fatter? About thirty pounds heavier!
- richer or poorer? Definitely poorer.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Left work early. Exercised. Listened to music. Danced. Hung out with CT -- in the past we've taken a trip together over the summer and spent New Year's together, but now that we're on opposite coasts it's not quite as easy. Blogged, now that I'm trying to look back at my year and failing to remember anything I didn't write down. Put pictures on our personal website, which I abandoned many months ago.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Worked. (If it were possible to do less of it and still do my job properly.) Wasted time. Worried about house stuff, even though it was unavoidable. Ate sugar.

18. How did you spend Christmas? See above.

19. What was your favorite TV program?
30 Rock, How I Met Your Mother. There weren't any shows I was all that excited about.

20. What were your favorite books of the year?
I cannot believe I stopped keeping track of the books I read. Maybe I'll resolve to start doing that again in 2011.  I just read and loved the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins. The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley was great. I enjoyed How I Become A Famous Novelist by Steve Hely. Don't remember any more -- I got those off my online library card history.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?
JW and I went to see a Handel and Haydn Society all-Mozart concert and I loved it -- at least the part I stayed awake for. I want to take K to see a real orchestra some time this year.

22. What were your favorite films of the year?
I think the only movies JW and I saw in the theater were "Up in the Air" and "Hot Tub Time Machine". I also saw "Tangled". All good.

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I woke up too early, baked a delicious cake, and visited relatives who thought my delicious cake was too ugly to serve and then insisted on keeping the leftovers. I turned 32.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Selling the house BEFORE buying the new house. Would have saved us a whole lot of anxiety.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?
Starting to get more professional at work (and even occasionally accessorizing!), only slightly less of a slob on the weekends. Working on it for 2011.

26. What kept you sane?
My wonderful husband. The moments when I looked at K and couldn't believe how much I loved him. (As opposed to the moments when I longed to escape from the constant "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!")
 
27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010. 
Hmm. That's a tough one. I consciously tried to worry less in 2010, and did pretty well at that even though our financial situation was precarious during all the real estate drama. In particular, I worked on breaking my habit of second-guessing my decisions. Most of the lessons I learned have to do with work. I guess one life lesson that applies to both work and other areas is that you should pursue the opportunity that sounds good to you, and worry later about how it will fit into your life because if it's valuable enough you will figure that out.

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